Out of Order
by beezyland
Summary: Basically, she self-medicates with doses of Nicky Russo and he's kind of cheating on gymnastics with Kelly Parker. Nickelly


Disclaimer: Don't own, but y'all know you wish I did. (Frightening.)

A/N: When I lose inspiration **Life's Crash Test Dummy **lets me raid her collection of Stories She Never Intends to Finish so all the good parts of this were probably written by her. Ha. Also, talks with **flowerchild3286** might have influenced some of this. Oh, the irony of an Austin/KP shipper inspiring me to write Nickelly. ;) Nickelly forever. Keep yo imagination strong, yo.

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><p><strong>-BB-<strong>

**Out of Order **

**...**

Nicky hates voicemail. He thinks listening to voicemail is a waste of time that could be geared towards gymnastics. That's why texting was invented. It's easier to get a point across via text, seeing thoughts in written form, easy to deleted and reworked. Nicky hates leaving voicemails just as much as he hates getting them. He feels awkward and stupid, essentially talking to himself just for someone to listen to him talk to himself later.

There is one exception to his rule. She's the exception to a lot of his rules, actually. And with good reason. There's no better feeling than stepping out of the gym after an exhausting day, breathing in the dry Texas air and seeing one new message on his phone.

Missed call. One voicemail. Kelly Parker.

Nicky tosses his bag into the empty passenger side seat and plays the message just to be met with silence. In his imagination, Kelly is on the other end, holding her breath or maybe biting her lip in that way he's never found attractive, but can't stop staring at when she does it. The silence stretches on as long as the voicemail is allowed to last and then it cuts off.

She doesn't say anything because she doesn't have to. She makes her point without words or punctuations or emoticons. Calling him mean she was thinking about him, which means she still cares. No matter how much they fucked up and how he ran and left her behind, _she still cares_. Her quiet effort is almost reason enough for him to ditch his uneventful life in Dallas and throw himself back into the chaos of being in love with Kelly Parker.

It was so much easier with the other girls. He put himself out there for Payson, got shut out and moved on. He felt the butterflies with Kaylie, but she snuffed that out quick and he didn't even get a hug. The Rock girls drove him to Denver Elite and this girl who had such a hold on him that it scared him straight out of the state.

…

The first time they kissed it was a stupid dare at a stupid party. Nicky didn't know it at the time. He didn't realize what was happening until her hand was on his shoulder and her lips against his. He kissed her back for maybe a second and the reciprocation must have surprised her because he distinctly remembers she gasped. Loud laughter broke out behind them and they pulled away, both dazed.

Kelly slapped on a smug smirk as she looked over her shoulder at the other elitists and said, "There. Pay up." She pursed her lips and threw Nicky a last glance before she joined her fellow gymnasts and didn't even say anything to him. Honestly, right then, Nicky considered giving up on Denver Elite crawling back to the Rock.

He felt like an idiot and walked away, cursing Marty for making him attend. He went to thank the host, one of the snobby elitist parents, and was really to go home, but then Kelly called out to him just as he reached his car. Angry, unkind words piled in his head and he was ready to give her a few, let her know that he wasn't made for her personal amusement; however, before he said a word, she kissed him again. And suddenly his anger seemed insignificant compared what her lips were doing so he kissed her back.

Nicky might have believed kisses were magic at one point, but not anymore. It's pure science; chemicals at work in the brain. The closer their bodies pressed together, the longer their lips lingered, the more blood vessels dilated. Breaths turned shallow, cheeks flushed and pulses quickened. Lips parted and taste buds collected information. Billions of nerve connections fired away and signals raced.

A good kiss works like a drug, produces a natural high and that's what that kiss must have been. After all, Kelly Parker is evil incarnated. Despite knowing this to be fact, Nicky couldn't stop himself, drowning in dopamine.

When she finally broke the kiss and fell back flat onto her feet, Kelly took a sharp breath and shoved him so his back hit his car door. "Tell _anyone_ about this and you're dead," she said.

"Making out with Satan isn't exactly something to brag about." Nicky rubbed his thumb and pointer finger down the sides of his mouth, wiping away the lipgloss.

"_Please_. As if you didn't enjoy that. Your face _and hands_ said otherwise," Kelly said. She took a step back, wearing a slinky little dress and heels that had to hurt. Kelly stared at him for a second, as if trying to make sense of the last few minutes and coming up empty. "I don't usually do this. I'm not like, a slut or anything."

"Right. Because who would believe that?" Nicky said. Kelly narrowed her eyes and when the words sank in, Nicky might have felt a little bad about it. "Just…blame the neurotransmitters."

"What?"

"The neurotransmitters. Dopamine, specifically, and maybe oxytocin, the, uh, hormone," Nicky said. Kelly continued to stare at him like he was a monkey on a leash. "Kissing influences the uptake of hormones and neurotransmitters beyond our conscious control."

Kelly laughed and smoothed down her dark hair that he ran his fingers through moments ago. "Wow, you are an arrogant nerd."

She started to walk back up the driveway, back to the party with her thin, bare arms crossed and the heels of her black pumps with red-lacquered soles clacking against the pavement.

"Hey, Parker!" Nicky shouted. It surprised him when she turned back to acknowledge him. Nicky honestly didn't think she would so when she does, he immediately felt his nerves go into overdrive and told himself to be cool. "Next time a little forewarning would be nice!"

She laughed again, clearly _at_ him. "Unnecessary. Don't expect a repeat anytime soon."

Nicky didn't expect anything real, even a week later when they were at Denver Elite and she pushed him into one of the spare rooms used for when tutors drop by for lessons. He reached for the light switch, but she stopped him and they kissed in the dark like addicts, needing a fix and taking it where they could. Just because they made out once, twice, _three times_ doesn't mean they like each other or anything. It's just nature and science at work.

…

They don't talk ever and Kelly is more than okay with that. If they talked Nicky would probably babble on about things she doesn't care about like science, using numbers and equations to explain why things are the way they are, or worse, boast about what an awesome gymnast he thinks he is. Nicky tries to talk to her sometimes, comes off cool and aloof, but turns out to be just plain awkward.

Kelly doesn't quite get it either. She's never been preoccupied with boys before. She didn't even want to kiss him that first time. It was the easiest fifty bucks she ever made. But she might have felt _something_ and maybe it has to do with all the crap he rambled on about after. All Kelly knows is that it feels good. He makes her forget the rest of the world exists. The stress and pressure disappears. Basically, she self-medicates with doses of Nicky Russo.

"I don't know what you want from me," Kelly says. Her voice sounds whiny, but only because she's trying so hard to control the emotion behind it. Arms crossed, she stands between Denver Elite and the Kelly Parker bus parked out front. Her mom is with her, far from pleased. It's late and most of the parking lot is empty.

"Well, if you didn't lose at Nationals to that powder-puff princess, Kaylie Cruz, we wouldn't be having this conversation, Kelly," Sheila says. "I don't know how you could have done this. It was all right there in front of you! Payson Keeler, your only competition, took herself out with that fall. You had it! Then you dropped the ball. Now that bimbo is making off with all your sponsorships and endorsement deals. I for the life of me can't remember a time I've been more disappointed in you."

Kelly hangs her head and presses her teeth into the inside of her cheek. The pressure and stress is all in her mother's gaze. Kelly feels like she's choking on it. "I'm sorry, mom. I'll make it right."

"Sorry isn't going to change anything, now is it?" Sheila barks. "After everything I've done for your career, after all the time you and I both spent in this gym, all you had to do was win and you couldn't even do that right."

Gymnastics isn't that simple, but pointing that out won't make a difference with Sheila.

"Hey, Kelly!"

Mother and daughter turn to find Nicky not too far away, waving as he walks over. The idiot is either blind or stupid to try and talk to her while she's in the middle of a conversation with her mom. Kelly's heart speeds up, but not because she likes him or he makes her anxious. It's purely because her mom talks loud and what if he overheard?

"I'm sorry, young man, but Kelly's busy if you didn't notice," Sheila snaps. The toxins in her tone make Nicky stop at a safe distance. "She doesn't have time for chitchat."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude," Nicky says. "Marty sent me to find Kelly. He wants to talk about something really quick before you leave. Actually, knowing Marty and how it takes him ten minutes to make his point, it might take a while."

"I know it well." Sheila massages her forehead. "As if I didn't already have a migraine."

"You should head home, mom," Kelly insists. "I have my car anyways. I'll see what Marty wants and meet you at home."

Sheila just looking at her daughter, so tired. "Go. But we aren't done with this conversation, Kelly."

"Okay, mom."

Sheila gives Nicky a sharp look as if to ask what he's still doing here and the male gymnast takes the hint, fishing his car keys in his cot pocket. Sheila gets into her mobile office with the giant picture of Kelly doing the thumbs-up on the side. Kelly watches the bus pull out of the parking lot and she takes a deep breath, eyes closed, her chin tilted to the dark sky.

"Your mom seems cool," Nicky says. Sarcasm noted.

Ignoring the comment, Kelly asks, "What could Marty possibly want right now?"

"Oh, I made that up," he says. Kelly's eyes widen in question and Nicky shrugs, twirling his ring of keys around his finger. "It looked like you could use a break from all that."

"You should just mind your own business, Russo."

"Fair enough." Nicky starts to walk away, but then pauses and turns right back around to face her. "I understand it's none of my business, but my advice is you let her cool down for a bit. Do you…do you want to go for a drive…with me?"

Kelly grinds her sneakers into the gravel of the parking lot, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me. There's no reason for you to."

"Who said anything about feeling sorry for you?" he asks. "It's your call. I'm just not ready to go straight home either."

When Kelly doesn't budge Nicky starts to leave. Groaning, Kelly tells him to wait, mostly because she doesn't want to be alone right now, but he never has to know that. Nicky opens the side door for her and gets in on the other. Kelly expects him to drive aimlessly, but every turn seems effortless like he has an agenda. Somehow they end up in the hospital parking lot.

"What are we doing here?" Kelly asks.

"My dad works here."

Kelly prides herself on being particularly bright and yet the pieces aren't fitting in her head. "You aren't going to like, introduce me to your dad, are you?"

Nicky laughs in response to her look of horror. "No. He probably wouldn't have time for us anyways. He doesn't have much time for anyone unless you fell down a mountain and broke every bone in your body. He's an orthopedic surgeon. Workaholic. Crappy dad."

She hums softly. "So your dad fixes bones for a living and you choose the one dream where the risk of breaking bones is generally higher than the rest of the population?"

"Guilty," he says. Daddy issues. Kelly knows it well. "He's never said it, but I know he hates that I'm a gymnast, always wanted me to be a doctor. I must have been seven or eight the last time he saw me compete. He wasn't always so…distant, you know. He used to be a good dad, but then my mom passed away and he just…work became number one."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know. I guess I just thought you should know that there's another end of the parent spectrum. We can't all be in sitcom equilibrium like the Keelers." They sit for a little while longer, letting it all sink in, before Nicky starts the engine. "We should head back before your mom has a reason to be more upset."

The next time either of them says anything it's when they're back in the DE parking lot.

"Why did you do this for me?" Kelly asks.

"You looked like you could use an excuse not to go home right away. Your mom, she's uh…"

Kelly's demeanor turns cold. People are always judging her mom and how she acts. They don't understand. Being on the opposite end of the spectrum, Nicky couldn't possibly know what it's like. "My mom just has an intense way of showing she cares."

"If that's what you want to call it. Okay." Nicky gets out of his car and walks around to her side. He opens the door for her and Kelly watches him, trying to figure out the angle he's playing. "And, uh, if things ever get _too intense_ at home…"

"It won't," Kelly says quietly.

"I'm just saying _if_ it ever happens you could, I don't know, call me? Or I could—"

"Is this your nerd way of trying to get my digits?" Kelly asks. Standing at the side of her car, Kelly wears usual, smug smirk while Nicky nervously scratches the back of his head and stares at his sneakers. "If you want my phone number just man up and ask me for my number." Kelly sighs and pulls her phone from her coat pocket. "Give me yours."

"_You_ want my number?"

"So I can call you if things ever get 'too intense' at home. Not that I ever will. Just so you can sleep better at night and stop looking so pathetic." Nicky enters his number into her contacts and hands it back. Kelly gets into her car, but before she can slam the door, Nicky catches it.

"Aren't you going to give me yours?" he asks.

"You had your chance, Russo. You'll know it if I ever call, but I wouldn't hold my breath."

"Yeah, goodnight to you too," Nicky says. He rolls his eyes and walks back to his car.

On the way home, Kelly knows she's driving straight into another lecture from her mom, but she finds herself smiling the entire ride.

…

"Kelly, open up…"

"Go away."

"Kelly, don't—"

"I said _go away_!"

The sadness dilutes the venom in her voice and the door between them absorbs the verbal blow. Kelly has been in the bathroom for some time now and it's probably best if Nicky listens to her, but leaving will only make him feel shittier and make her feel shittier and he doesn't want that. Talking to her first is just the polite thing to do in this situation.

"I'm not going anywhere. At least, not until I know you're okay," Nicky says. He shifts even closer to the bathroom door so that his forehead is nearly pressed against it. "You might as well come out. The sooner we, uh, sort things out the sooner I'll leave you alone."

The door doesn't open right away. Nicky feels as if he's on his feet for hours before he hears the door unlocking, but he knows that's an impractical assumption. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes. When the brass handle turns, Nicky stumbles back into her bedroom, not wanting to look like a complete creep up in her face.

She's hard to read, but that isn't saying much because Kelly Parker is known for her expert ability to deceive. Her hair is down, limp, and she's wearing more clothes than she did when she first invited him inside and told him her mom was out of town. She looks sad or maybe just blank. Nicky isn't sure, but he isn't much of a judge on how others are feeling.

Kelly walks past him and goes to her bed. Nicky knows he should say or do something, but doesn't know what. She avoids his gaze, which means staring at her will just make her even more uncomfortable and make things worse between them. He takes a few steps across her large bedroom, drawn to her impressively stacked bookshelf and the even more impressive display of trophies and medals.

"Why aren't you gone yet?" she asks.

"Like I said, I wanted to see if you were okay." Nicky runs his thumb across the spines of the hardcover Harry Potter books. She has every single one.

"Well, I'm okay."

Nicky whips around to face her, ready to question her definition of _okay_. From where he stands, things appear far from okay and lean more towards _downright horrible_.

"Seriously, Russo, _go_."

"I will, but first, I just…." Nicky sighs, frustrated. He obviously has no idea where he's going with this, having never been in this situation, but he has to at least try. Nicky can't bring himself to even look her in the eyes. His face is too hot and the way his heart pounds in his head is too debilitating. "I've never…that was…. I just thought you should know that you're my first. That was the first time I ever did it with someone and if it sucked then, well, that's why."

"You're telling me you were a virgin?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying, or trying to, at least," Nicky says. He shyly lifts his eyes to gage her reaction. Kelly doesn't believe a word he stuttered. "I probably wouldn't have said anything, but while we were…you didn't seem…but you didn't say stop either…." Kelly keeps staring at him and Nicky grits his teeth. Social anxiety has never hurt so much. "Then right after, you shoved me off you and ran to the bathroom."

More like _limped to the bathroom_, but he isn't about to put it like that. They're both embarrassed as is.

Nicky starts again, "What I'm trying to say is…I'm sorry if I'm bad at it. Sex isn't exactly gymnastics."

Kelly laughs (even if Nicky wasn't joking) and it's a nice change from her sitting there with a pillow hugged to her chest, looking so detached. It isn't exactly a happy laugh. Nicky doesn't really know what kind of laugh it is, but it's better than silence and judgment.

"Did I…did it hurt?" he asks. Thank God it's mostly dark in her room sans for the light streaming in from the adjoined bathroom. He's sure his face is a humiliating shade of red.

"Yeah," Kelly says quietly. The dark helps ease out the truth too. "But I know you didn't mean for it to be so…." Kelly's eyes roam the room, searching for the right word. "_Unpleasant_." Nicky inwardly winces. Ouch. "Plus, I, um…." She stops looking at him altogether. "I heard it's supposed to when it's your first time."

Nicky isn't really relieved or surprised. Mostly, he's shocked she actually told him that.

"Oh." Nicky sighs and combs his fingers through his hair, moving his eyes back to the bookshelf even if he can't focus enough to read any of the titles. "It shouldn't have been with me. You should have been with someone who knew what to do, someone you actually like."

Nicky knew she was upset when she called him to pick her up from one of the other gymnasts' social gatherings Nicky never gets invited to. He knew to be careful when he walked her to her doorstep, asking if everything was okay and Kelly didn't say anything, just kissed him hard. Everything about her was determined in all the wrong ways. Kelly doesn't mimic the sentiment nor does she try to convince him otherwise. It just hangs there in the air around them.

"You should probably go home," Kelly says. Her voice is urgent, but less angry than Nicky expects. She sounds tired and not the good kind of tired either.

"Yeah, I should."

Nicky realizes he's still in only his shirt and boxers and goes to step into his jeans. Kelly lies down on her side, knees curled up and her back to him as he gets dressed as quickly as possible. When he reaches for his keys and phone on the bedside table, Nicky knocks over the box of condoms (a gift from the Rock girls) so they spill out on the floor. He curses and shakily collects every last one, putting them back into the box. He glances over at Kelly as he stands up and, yep, she was watching. Fantastic.

"So, uh, I'll see you at the gym Monday," Nicky says. "Um, bye."

"Russo!" Kelly shouts, just as he's about to walk out the door. "We aren't ever talking about tonight, not to _anyone_ or I will personally ruin you." As an afterthought, she adds, "And it isn't ever happening again."

Nicky doesn't even try to say anything, knowing his ineloquent way with word can only make things worse. With the strong light from the hallway against his back, casting shadows across his face, Nicky nods before showing himself out.

…

Losing her virginity to Nicky Russo had to have been her stupidest, most impulsive idea yet.

She should have just taken a taxi home from that stupid party thing. She doesn't know why she let the others get to her when it comes to things like boyfriends and sex. They called her _inexperienced _and brought her mom into it and said she was _sheltered _in a _Stockholm Syndrome _sort of way. Fuck them.

Maybe she just wanted to forget about what a miserable night she had and kissing Nicky Russo has a way of clearing her mind. Kissing him is all about the senses—the taste of his lips, the smell of his light cologne, the feel of his rough, calloused fingers as they gently explored the space where her shirt and jeans didn't quite meet. She wanted all of that and she got it, but then they took it to a level that neither of them really understood.

Kelly never had fairytale expectations of losing her virginity like some girls do. She doesn't waste time thinking like that. She doesn't put stock in relationships since she's never in her life seen a functioning one. Her parents took care of that. But, still, even without expectations, using him kind of made her feel crappy and on top of that, Kelly didn't know it'd feel like the most unnatural thing two people could do with their bodies and hurt so friggin' much.

She dreads seeing Nicky at the gym that following Monday because he's so much of a spaz that there's no doubt he's going to make it awkward. Then Marty will probably notice and ask questions and that won't help anyone. As she walks in to Denver Elite, Kelly decides to avoid him at all costs. He can't be a weirdo if she never lets him see her.

It sounds like a plan until she walks out of the locker room and sees him with that bitch, Michelle. Gymnast? More like sex worker with how she gets around. She does her unsexy horselaugh thing and Nicky politely smiles back. If he doesn't make it clear that he isn't interested the slut will take it as an invite to surprise him in the backseat of his car, naked.

Screw the gameplan. Kelly walks over.

"Your biceps are _huge_." Michelle giggles.

Kelly rolls her eyes because eww.

"Hey, Nick," Kelly says. Michelle's smile noticeably lessens at Kelly's arrival. Kelly Parker is head bitch here. Even the stupid ones know that. Nicky's cool, aloof front immediately evaporates at the sound of her voice and he awkwardly shuffles his feet. Kelly smirks. Having power over people never gets old.

"Kelly!" Michelle's voice rises as if to say _I'm hunting this poor, baby animal of a boy so you should fuck off, Parker_. "I'm sorry. Did I miss the memo? You two are speaking now? I could have sworn a week ago you referred to him as the DE leper."

"Quarantine is over. He's alright," Kelly says. Without looking over at Nicky's reaction, Kelly gives Michelle a devious smile. "Too bad for you there's no quarantine for the DE slut." Michelle dramatically gasps, but if she's less stupid than she looks she won't try to fight back. "You can go now. Bye, Michelle."

The girl with the wild blonde hair turns on her heels and stomps to the other end of the gym. Kelly grins. Sometimes they make it too easy.

"Good morning to you too, Parker." Nicky puts on a cocky smirk like he assumes the girl-on-girl crime was over him or something stupid like that. His ego can be too much sometimes. That's why he needs Kelly to take him down a peg or three.

Kelly scoffs. "Barf. Don't tell me you were actually falling for that. I've heard her use that line on every male gymnast to come through here. Don't feel special, Nick."

"I'm not completely clueless, you know. I knew what she was doing," Nicky says. "Though I have to admit I enjoy a compliment, especially when it's true."

"Right. I forgot. You aren't very hard to get into bed." Kelly smiles a little at her own joke, but then she sees Nicky quickly look away, closing in on himself, like a hermit crab retreating into its shell. Her smile fades and without thinking about it, Kelly reaches out and lightly touches his arm. "Nick, I was teasing you."

She might be able to poke fun at it, but his expression says he isn't amused. "Are you okay?"

God, she hates how he makes her feel so…vulnerable.

"I'm fine," Kelly says.

"And it won't mess with your gymnastics, right?"

"Oh, my God. Shut up! Did I not make myself clear? We aren't talking about it." Kelly shoves him a little too hard to be considered playful. She purses her lips and her voice gets quieter. "Off the record, I might have been a little dramatic that night. It wasn't like, _traumatic_. I'm not permanently turned off or anything. And choosing celibacy for the rest of your life would be extreme even for you, Russo."

Nicky allows himself a small smile. "That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Kelly laughs because, yeah, that's probably accurate.

"Parker! Russo!" Marty shouts. "Socialize on your own time! From now until the end of the day, _I own you_! Now get to work!"

Nicky immediately does as Marty commands (reinforcing why everyone calls him "Marty's Pet" behind his back) and Kelly goes over to her group of girls that attack her with questions. It wouldn't surprise her if "Kelly's Bitch" starts to rise in the ranks of nicknames for Nicky Russo. Kelly doesn't mind, especially if it a keeps the slutty, untalented hoes from creeping on him. She isn't being territorial because she likes him. No way. She just lost her virginity to the guy and seeing him lower his standards would be just sad. She's just doing him a favor. That's all.

…

Rubbing an apple against the material of his shirt, Nicky pushes his way into the film room, where he usually spends the second half of lunch. Usually, a few trainers or some of the other gymnasts go over footage, and Nicky likes to sit in. Today, he's surprised to find Kelly sitting on her sweater spread out on the floor, an empty plastic food container and fork at her side. She's transfixed on the screen that almost takes up an entire wall, watching a slightly younger version of herself about to perform on beam.

"What are you doing in here?" Nicky asks.

"I should ask you the same thing. Stalking isn't cute, Russo." Kelly doesn't even have the common courtesy to look at him when she snaps at him.

"I'm not stalking you. I'm always in here during lunch," he says. "Shouldn't you be downstairs with your Kelly Parker followers?"

"I prefer Army of Skanks," she says. Nicky bites into his apple and weaves around the plastic chairs, going to sit with her on the floor. Kelly slowly turns her head, finally looking at him. "Um, who said you could sit with me?"

"Um, the fact that I pay to be here every day means I'm entitled to sit wherever I want," Nicky says. He smiles at her with one side of his mouth and bites into the apple again, turning his attention to the screen. He looks just in time to see Kelly do a standing full. "Wow, your body position on that landing was near perfect."

"Are you kidding? It was perfect. I won gold at Nationals with this routine," Kelly says. She sighs wistfully, staring into the past. "I used to be great."

Nicky shakes his head at her and licks his lips. "In gymnastics, losing doesn't mean you're any less great. It just means on that given day, in that moment, someone else was greater. You shouldn't blame yourself for it. You should push yourself to be even better."

"Is that how you justify losing to Austin Tucker at Nationals?"

Nicky doesn't know why it's impossible for them to have a normal conversation without her sneaking in an insult. Instead of letting her get to him and walking out like he wants to, Nicky sets his apple down in her empty salad container and starts to tug off his shirt, lifting it up enough to show her his pale, lean torso and his left shoulder, all marked with bruises. He swears he sees her blush, but teasing her would interfere with the point he's trying to make.

"Floor isn't exactly my strong suit. I bruise easy," he explains, "I tore my ACL, sprained both wrists multiple times. But if anything, they're all reminders of why I bother putting myself through this. Sometimes the thing we love hurts us. That's how we know we're doing it right. That's how we know it's worth it."

Kelly stares at his face and even with his body half-exposed, Nicky has the nerve to stare right back. The roar from the crowd on the video draws Kelly's attention away. "Keep your shirt on, Nick. God."

Nicky slides his arm back through the sleeve. He goes back to chomping on his apple when Kaylie Cruz is up on floor. Seeing his former almost-crush, Nicky clears his throat and pretends he doesn't feel Kelly watching him.

"Okay, what happened with you two?" Kelly asks. "You said you were never together, but your face right now. Some of the rumors had to have been true."

"We got a little too close while we were training together. That's all."

"And it didn't work out because?"

"Because she didn't want it to," Nicky answers. "Apparently, there's some girl code or something and since I used to have a thing with Payson—"

"Wait," Kelly says. "You and Payson Keeler?"

"That, yeah, I don't even know. We kissed _once_, but then Payson tells me she has a boyfriend or something, which was obviously an excuse to get me to back off so I did." Nicky shrugs his shoulders. "Then things with Kaylie and me, well, that ended before I even realized it started."

"Oh, my God." Kelly's mouth drops open. "You totally work the whole _I'm Nicky Russo and I'm a socially retarded puppy_ thing, but you _so_ know what you're doing!" He looks at her, confused, and Kelly rolls her eyes. "Payson. Kaylie. _Me_." Kelly pauses and tenses, obviously having added her name without thinking it through. "What? Is it a personal ambition to hook up with the top gymnasts in the world? For future reference, Genji Cho a little young for you."

Nicky's forehead pinches in appall. "No. It isn't like that _at all_!"

"Whatever. Drop the innocent act," Kelly says. "What is it that works so well for you?"

"I'm not following…."

"Quit playing dumb. I figured you out. Now, why are the best gymnasts in the country drawn to _you_?" she asks. "Your awkwardness isn't exactly a turn on. Neither is how highly you think of yourself. Do you drive all the girls to the hospital and tell them about your parents?"

"No, I did that just for you," Nicky says. He obviously said that without thinking and only reconsiders it after. He bashfully looks away and tosses the core of his apple into the trashcan in the corner of the room. "I hate to disappoint, but I don't have that answer for you."

"Keeler probably fell for you no problem. Pre-back brace, looking at you was probably like looking into a mirror. Obviously, she'd try to date herself if she could. What about our National Champ? How'd you work that?" Nicky opens his mouth to tell her she's being ridiculous, but then one specific moment comes to mind and it makes him turn away, embarrassed. Kelly reads him too quickly and pounces within seconds. "Just tell me already."

"Okay, there was this one moment with Kaylie during training…" Nicky feels his face getting hot at the memory alone. "She was lying on her back and I was on top of her—"

"Okay, you can stop there," she says sharply. Kelly appears less eager to know and more disgusted. "Don't finish whatever you were going to say. I just ate."

"No! Okay, yeah, that sounded bad. It wasn't like _that_." Now Nicky is clearly panicking and Kelly clearly thinks he's a pervert. "We were _training_. I was trying to help her up her strength and it was like a reverse push-up." Kelly remains skeptical and Nicky sighs. "Here. I'll show you. Lie down on your back."

"No offense, but this sounds rapey."

"You aren't allowed to say 'no offense' because you so obviously mean it to be offensive," Nicky tells her. "Come on. Trust me."

Kelly glances at the door because if someone were to walk in it would probably be the biggest scandal in DE history. Nicky stares at her expectantly and Kelly sighs, doing as he says.

"Cool. Now part your legs a bit—"

"Russo, _rapey_."

Kelly listens anyways and when she's lying out across her jacket, Nicky carefully moves his lean body over hers. He presses his palms against the floor over Kelly's shoulders and supports his weight on his hands and the balls of his feet. "See," Nicky says. "Now press your hands to my chest and push me up."

Kelly looks apprehensive about his whole thing, but goes along with it. Nicky keeps his abs tight as he bends his elbows and lowers his torso towards her, drawing a breath as he does. Bracing his chest with her palms, Kelly push him away when his body gets dangerously close to hers. She's stronger than he expected and though she clearly gets the point, Nicky doesn't move off of her right away. He gets trapped in her eyes, hazel—brown at first glance, but almost gold with instances of green.

"Wow," Nicky says, like he can't control his mouth and the words just slip out. "You have really nice eyes."

Kelly's lips part and she's speechless for a second, but then her eyes narrow and she slaps her hand against his chest. "_This_ is _so_ your move! You're doing it right now!"

Nicky laughs because her reaction is priceless and kind of adorable. He wasn't trying to make a move on her, but, yeah, with the way she's blushing, this one kind of works every time. Still smiling to himself, Nicky carefully moves off of her and holds his hand out. He's pleasantly surprised when she lets him help her sit up.

"God, Nick, you're _so weird_."

"So you've told me." Nicky nods and combs his fingers through his dark hair. "You know, I had my doubts when I first came here, but you're alright. I like hanging out with you."

"Duh. Join the Kelly Parker fan club."

"No. Not what I meant." Nicky boldly slides his hand beneath hers. "Not _Kelly Parker_, the name. I like hanging out with _you_."

_Kelly Parker, the person. _

She doesn't know what to say (a first) and just focuses on their joined hands, weaving her fingers through his. They just hold hands and watch more of Nationals from two years ago. It's kind of funny how they started with random, hot make out sessions and rushed into bad sex and only now are they comfortable just holding hands.

They quickly separate when the door rattles and one of the trainers asks if he can use the room. Nicky and Kelly clean up their space and she goes back to her Army of Skanks and he goes on with his day. Things are changing between them and Nicky can tell that it scares her, but he sort of maybe likes it. _Her_.

…

Nicky really isn't that hard to get information out of. Kelly has learned she just has to be persistent and he'll tell her whatever she wants to know, especially about the Rock girls. It always kind of pisses her off when he talks about them even if she's the one who asks. Those bitches took him for granted and Nicky, beneath all his issues and arrogance, he's sweet.

"Lauren Tanner has blackmail cortisone on you?" Kelly asks, even though he just told her exactly that a second ago. "That's the _real_ reason you ran from Boulder?"

"I had a lot going on," Nicky says. "Whatever. I don't plan on running into Lauren Tanner ever again so it doesn't really matter."

"How are you not freaked out?" Kelly asks. "You forged your dad's signature to get drugs, way stupid, by the way. Nick, you're a drug pusher. Your dad could lose his license over something like this. You could go to jail, even worse, get banned from gymnastics."

"I didn't really think it through. I…I wanted to impress Payson."

Kelly's expression darkens. Sarcastically, she asks, "And how'd that work out for you?" Nicky flops back against the mat beneath him while Kelly sits back on her palms. "We should steal it back."

Nicky arches an eyebrow at her. "Okay, are you insane?"

"Shut up," she hisses. "You said you've snuck into the Rock after hours before."

"I have."

"We'll go tonight. I know her locker combo," Kelly says. She can tell he's ready to call her insane again and Kelly playfully nudges his calf with the front of her bare foot. "I can't help it if I'm waiting for national team practice to start and I glance over and see her opening her locker at the speed of a granny."

Nicky smiles. "Why do I feel like this is less about me and more about your weird thing for breaking and entering?"

"Don't be a little bitch, Nick. I'll do it. You just need to stand watch."

Nicky groans and pulls the hood of his jacket up over his eyes. Kelly shakes his arm just to be annoying and Nicky tries to blindly swat her away. People around Denver Elite are watching them and making assumptions about things that are none of their business. It's weird that they haven't done more than hold hands ever since the v-card catastrophe and yet she feels closer to him now than she ever did before.

It's a testament to their friendship when Kelly gets a text from him well after midnight. Of course he'd give in. Sheila is a fairly deep sleeper (with wall-defying snoring as proof) so Kelly sneaks out of the house, dressed in black from head to toe. She meets Nicky around the corner and gets into the passenger seat like it has her name on it. They drive to Boulder and she scowls because he's wearing the same outfit from earlier—a bright ass blue hoodie with jeans—when she specifically told him all black.

Nicky parks the car down the street from the Rock and the lack of security is so bad it's almost too easy to get in. Nicky is spooked the entire time and he tells her it's partly because this is illegal, but also because everything looks almost exactly the same as before he left. Kelly pulls his hood up over his head for him and tells him to be the lookout as she goes to work her magic. Once she leaves the locker room, Kelly sneaks up behind Nicky and lunges at him. He literally jumps and Kelly laughs, hanging on his shoulder.

"I scared the crap out of you!" she shouts.

"Not funny, Parks," Nicky says, trying hard to sound angry. Kelly just grins, proud of herself, and Nicky moves his arm around her, pulling her in front of him. "Did you get it?"

Before she can answer, they see the shadowy outline of a man outside the tinted front door of the Rock. Nicky grabs Kelly's hand and quickly leads her through the gym. They burst out the back and sprint back to the car. The adrenalin is pumping, heart rates are up, and the paranoia doesn't end until they're safely in his car.

"You think it was Sasha?" Kelly asks, panting.

"I don't really care as long as they didn't see our faces." Nicky gasps for air. "Did you find it?"

"Nope," Kelly answers. "It wasn't there. She probably dumped it by now considering you're threat level zero. Ugh, Nick, you would not believe. Lauren Tanner has _the ugliest_ leos I have ever seen and the smell in her locker. Rancid."

Nicky deadpans. "So we did all this for nothing?"

He's clearly frustrated and grunts in this way that shows he's been hanging around Marty too much. Kelly just laughs. Nicky turns onto his side and watches her laugh, mouth open, eyes crinkled and it's infectious so he forgets to be broody and laughs with her.

When the laughter subsides, Nicky is bold enough to lean in and kiss her. As if his burst of confidence alone doesn't make her hot for him, Kelly's reminded of how much she missed his lips on hers. The kiss is soft and brief and when he pulls away, murmuring something of an apology, Kelly grabs his face and kisses him with this intensity that's been building ever since they held hands in the film room. She makes a soft sighing sound every time he nips at her lips and they both really hate that stupid divider between their seats.

Nicky slides his hand down her side and Kelly sits up, trying to get closer. At one point, she murmurs a, "fuck it," and digs her hands into his shoulders as she climbs out of her chair and over that goddamn dividing compartment and straddles him. Her arms move around his neck and Nicky presses their foreheads together for a beat.

"I can't believe you talked me into this. I still stand by the fact that you're insane," he says, and it makes Kelly smile against his mouth. "But, you know, in the best way."

"You're really good with words," she jokes. Kelly kisses him and feels his hands slowly edging up beneath her shirt. "Nick, I'm not having sex with you in the front seat of your car."

Nicky chuckles. "We don't have to. We could do other things…"

"Other things?"

"Yeah, I…." Nicky pauses and leans back enough to see into her eyes. "I did research."

Kelly laughs, showing no sympathy for his fragile ego. "You say the nerdiest shit, I swear."

She could probably tease him for hours based on those three words alone, but Kelly lets it go when he reminds her that she could make better use of her lips. Kelly pulls away long enough to murmur, "show me," and Nicky grins. Every time he makes her moan, Kelly's back hits the steering wheel and the car horn sounds in a residential area at nearly three in the morning. Nicky smirks and Kelly tells him not to stop and they're totally asking to get arrested tonight.

…

Nicky is kind of cheating on gymnastics with Kelly Parker and ideally he should be beating himself up for committing such a sin, but he doesn't really mind it. There's no reason or rhyme to it, no method to the madness that they create together, but Nicky can't remember a time where he was happier. So much so that even Marty notices.

"Why are you so happy?"

Nicky dusts the chalk off his hands and glances over at his coach who has suspicion written across his face. "What do you mean?" Nicky asks.

Marty eyes him out and Nicky slaps on an innocent grin. Marty grunts. "Be careful."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Nicky says. He's pretty sure Marty has his theories just like everyone else here. On days when her mom and Ellen Beals aren't in the gym, Nicky and Kelly freely interact. Somehow hanging out with him overpowered what her Army of Skanks think. "Anyways, guess who's trying to recruit me."

"Other gyms are _still_ trying to recruit you?"

"Apparently," Nicky says. "Dallas called."

Marty whistles. "You're kidding. Why are they trying to steal my top male gymnast?"

Nicky's lips tug in a smile. He knows Marty's mostly joking, but it really does feel nice to have someone backing him. In Boulder, Nicky always represented the Rock, but the Rock never really represented him. At Denver Elite it's different and Marty makes him feel wanted.

"I was just as surprised when I got the message on the answering machine," Nicky goes on. "Relax, coach, I'm not going anywhere. I'm an elitist. I bought multiple t-shirts and jackets with my name stitched in. Nonrefundable."

With his clipboard under one arm, Marty smirks, proud. "You know, when you first showed up here I thought you'd last a month tops. I never thought I'd hear you say that."

Nicky shrugs his shoulders up to his ears. "Honestly, back then, I probably would have agreed with you. I never thought I'd say this, but things aren't so bad around here. Not as bad as they made it seem over at the Rock. I guess I've officially assimilated."

Marty's hand comes out of nowhere and clamps onto Nicky's shoulder, giving him a shake.

"Ugh, your bromance is nauseating." Kelly groans, walking up to the two of them. "Are you done? There are other gymnasts who could benefit from you doing your job, Marty. Playing favorites is shameful."

Nicky scoffs. "_You_ want to talk about playing favorites?"

"Children, be nice," Marty growls. "Give me a second, Kelly. I'll be right with you."

Marty uncaps the pen in his shirt pocket with his teeth and takes a minute to scribble down a few notes. Nicky finds it impossible to not smile at Kelly and he knows he's being obvious, but can't bring himself to care. She's just fucking cute when she's trying so hard not to smile back. When Nicky doesn't let up, Kelly reaches out and shoves him. Nicky suppresses a laugh and briefly catches her fingers with his before Marty even glances up from his clipboard.

"Alright. Good work, Russo. Kelly, I'm all yours."

"Finally."

They walk off towards the mat across the way and leave Nicky with the pummel horse.

"She's going to burn you, you know." Nicky finds Michelle standing beside him. "She's using you. She's never going to fall for you like you're so obviously falling for her. Kelly Parker isn't capable of it. She doesn't have a heart so she's going to break yours."

Nicky glares. "Hmm, sounds to me like someone's jealous. Not surprising. You should be."

The blonde laughs. Kelly's right. It kind of does sound like a horse. "Jealous of what? A girl with a psycho mom, who's so clearly leading you on?"

Nicky turns back around. "If it's okay with you I have to get back to gymnastics now."

"If you're smart, you won't turn down Dallas just yet," Michelle calls at his back. Nicky refuses to acknowledge that he even hears her. "I'm just saying, Nicky. You never know when you might need to run."

…

Past the high on himself thing, Nicky Russo is a big, attractive nerd. He's fun to make fun of and look at and kiss, but Kelly doesn't like to consider what's beyond that. She's aware that all the little ways Nicky affects her life adds up to something bigger, but she doesn't like to think about it. They don't ever talk about their relationship, which keeps everything uncomplicated, damn near perfect. That's when she should have known to expect the worst.

Sometimes, safely behind her locked bedroom door, Kelly likes to wear one of Nicky's hoodies. It's the one Marty gave him when he first came to DE. It's a soft cotton zip-up, blue with the Denver Elite logo on the back and _Russo_ in white lettering over the heart. Nicky forgot it that one time she invited him in and he left in a bumbling hurry. The hoodie is baggy on her and comfy and smells like him so she likes to wear it sometimes. It's like she's with him when she isn't and that sounds stupid even to Kelly, but whatever.

One day, Kelly gets home from the gym and the house is uncannily quiet. All the lights are on so it must mean Sheila's home and didn't jet off on one of her impromptu business trips where she tries to gain new clients or steal new clients from their existing management companies. Kelly drops her bag near the stairs and makes her way through the house.

Two bottles of wine are on the table along with a glass half-full and Nicky's neatly folded hoodie.

_Crap_.

"Mom…"

"I've been waiting for you to get home. You're late and you didn't call." Sheila holds up her wineglass and inspects the deep cherry color from all sides. When she finally looks at her daughter, Sheila sneers, "Did Marty want to talk to you about something _really quick_ again?"

Kelly doesn't like the implication there. She doesn't like any of this.

"Come. Sit." Sheila sounds unnaturally calm. Kelly slowly makes her way closer and sits like she's told. "The maid found this _thing _mixed in with your clothes. Care to explain why you have Nicky Russo's jacket?"

Kelly Parker is known for how good she is with thinking on her feet, but her mother has a kryptonite-like effect on her. Sheila bleeds Kelly dry of her ability to bullshit.

"I…I can explain." Kelly inwardly cringes. Already she's off to a bad start.

With the wineglass in hand, Sheila motions for her to go on. "Be my guest."

"I stole it from him," Kelly says. "He's been going crazy, looking for it. It's entertaining."

Sheila takes a sip that's more of a gulp. Her eyes are small and her cheeks are rosy. It makes Kelly wonder how much her mother's had to drink tonight.

"What have I always taught you?" Sheila barks. "Lying is only okay if you can get away with it. Being bad at it makes you look stupid. This right here, Kelly, talking to _me_, _your mother_, there is no lying and there definitely is no getting away with it. I'll ignore that you just tried to lie to my face—and poorly, I might add—and let you try again."

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _

"He forgot it when he was here."

Sheila's face reddens, more from anger than alcohol. "And why was he at our house? I couldn't have been home or I would have noticed that meathead clunking around. You had a boy over without my permission and unsupervised?"

"Mom, I'm sixteen."

"Even more reason!" Sheila's voice rises. She's always angry, but this is a new level. The pinot noir in her glass nearly sloshes over the side from the way she swings her hand. "Did you let him _touch you_? How old is he? One phone call and I can have him hauled in for sexual assault and statutory rape."

It's all moving too fast for Kelly's head to follow. Sheila wouldn't seriously try to have Nicky arrested, would she?

"Mom, no!" Kelly cries. "Don't you think you're overreacting? I—"

"You what, Kelly?" When Sheila takes that tone and leans over the table towards her, Kelly shrinks back in her chair like a helpless child. "Please do not tell me you have _feelings_ for this boy. Give me a break! Don't fool yourself into thinking he actually cares about you. All you are to him is a rung he needs to step on, climbing the Denver Elite power ladder. On top of that, he's a boy so if he can get sex out of it he will. They only care about what they can get out of it. Apparently you gave it to him and all you got in return was this stupid jacket."

"Nick isn't like that," Kelly argues. "And we haven't even…."

Well, they've done stuff, but still.

"This is the boy who was featured in all those trashy tabloids with Kaylie Cruz, was he not?" Sheila asks. "The last thing you need right now is to be associated with Kaylie Cruz's sloppy seconds. Do you know how that makes you look? You already came in second to her. Now you're eating her leftovers? You're better than this, Kelly. This is pathetic."

Is that so bad, though? Kelly finds herself wondering. What if she doesn't mind leftovers as long as it's Nicky? Payson didn't want him and Kaylie didn't want him, which means Kelly shouldn't want him, but the truth is that she does. _Want him_. That's when it hits her how screwed she is. She's falling for Nicky Russo.

"Oww, sweetheart, don't look so sad. I know this must be hard for you. I'm just giving you an objective perspective here. The attention he's giving you and the boyish smile, it stops you from seeing things for what they are," Sheila says. "He isn't the boy for you, but don't worry. The infatuation will pass. There'll be plenty of boys good enough for you in the future, but despite my best effort your career is practically in the crapper. That is what you should be focused on. Not Nicky Russo. Kelly, are you listening to me?"

"I am," Kelly says. "And you're right."

Sheila wears the biggest smile. "I'm glad you're seeing the bigger picture. How mature of you. That's my girl. I'm sure this goes without saying, but just so we're on the same page, I'll be blunt. End it with him. You do the right thing and tell that boy it's over. You end it or so help me God I will end it for you. Do I make myself clear?"

Kelly nods and keeps her teary eyes on the table. "Yes, mom."

"Good." Sheila stands from her seat and grabs Nicky's hoodie from off the table. Kelly's eyes shoot up and follow her mother as the woman shoves the hoodie into the garbage and dumps her wine out over it. "Now that that's settled I'm heading to bed. We have an early day tomorrow. I can do my work down at Denver Elite. Someone needs to keep an eye on you."

Sheila instructs Kelly to turn out the lights before she goes to sleep and touches her shoulder before leaving the room. Once her mother's heavy footsteps disappear upstairs, Kelly finally breaks down, presses her face into her palms and sobs hard.

And there goes their perfect little world…

…

It's literally like he blinked and everything went to hell.

Kelly is ignoring him. Right in front of everyone, Kelly tells him she thinks he's weird and doesn't want to hang out anymore. He thinks she's trying to be funny so he laughs, but Kelly doesn't laugh along. Nicky asks why, but all she tells him is she has to get back to training and for him to leave her alone. Confused, Nicky tries to pull her aside, but her mom hovers around her 24/7 and Kelly acts like she's okay with it. He nearly gives up altogether, but then, out of nowhere, Kelly drags him into the nearest empty room.

"You need to stop calling and texting me because you know I'm not allowed to answer or reply," Kelly says, straight to business. Not even a kiss hello. She looks so upset, not angry, but miserable. "My mom checks my phone statement. I told her it's over, but she doesn't believe me. Forget trusting me."

"So it is over?"

Kelly's shoulders drop and her expression softens. She gently grabs his wrists and wraps his arms around her. When she presses her face into his chest, Nicky rests his chin atop her head.

"Where's your mom right now?" he asks.

"Outside, in her office on wheels, screaming at someone on the phone. She'll probably come back to check on me any second. I shouldn't even be talking to you right now," she says. "I hate this, but what is there to do about it, you know?"

"You could stand up to her," Nicky says. Kelly snorts to show how ridiculous of a suggestion that is. "I mean it, Kel. What's so wrong about us being together? Why is it even her decision? She can't control you if you don't let her. You get that your mom is a little, well, _crazy_, right?"

Kelly rolls her eyes. "She's my mom _and_ manager. It comes with the territory. She just wants what's best for me and my career. Sure, she can be drastic, but we both know she's right. Hooking up takes our focus away from gymnastics. Things would be better if we weren't so…."

Attached?

In love?

_Screwed_.

"So it is over?" Nicky asks again.

"What do you want me to say?" Kelly asks exasperatedly. "At least it was fun while it lasted?"

"Are you kidding me?" Nicky frowns. Kelly starts to pull away, but he refuses to let her go.

"What? It's not like we were serious or anything. We never said we were dating."

"Don't. Don't pull this crap on me, alright?" Nicky backs her up against the nearest wall and gently traces down her cheek with his thumb. Kelly keeps her eyes on the ceiling and drops her arms to the side. "You're with me," he whispers in a way that makes her entire body tense and he feels it against his. "Drop the Kelly Parker bitch act. You're with_ me_."

"We can't do this anymore," she says hoarsely. "You need to stop making this harder than it should be. We knew it wasn't forever. If you need me to spell it out for you, yes, it's over."

"Why?"

Kelly huffs irritably and nearly stomps her foot. "_Because_."

"Because your mom told you to or because it's what you want?"

Nicky's spent enough time with Kelly to know that it's just easier for her to be defensive than it is to be vulnerable. She lives that choice over and over. "Can you stop bringing my mom into this?"

"Kelly, she's the only reason we're even talking like this!"

"Just stop. My mom is all the family I have. She raised me to be strong and she's right. You and me, we don't even make sense! Blame me all you want, but leave my mom out of it. All she did was give me a little perspective on the situation. I'm not sorry I have a parent who actually gives a damn about me and my gymnastics and you don't."

Suddenly, Nicky's hands fall away from her and he backs away. The distance between them materializes out of nowhere and it's so vast it could rival oceans. Kelly finally looks at him and Nicky can't for the life of him recognize her. She doesn't resemble the girl he fell for in the slightest.

"Wow, Kelly, just…wow." Nicky watches his shoes and keeps moving away from her until they're practically on opposite sides of the room. "I can't believe you just…what a low blow." The next time he looks at her, the desperation is gone. Anger mixes with the hurt. "I've never told anyone that!" Nicky yells at her for the first time and Kelly actually flinches. "Not Payson. Not Kaylie. Not any of my coaches or trainers. Not even my manager. No one! I told _you_ something real about me and I can't believe you'd throw it back in my face like that."

"Nick, I didn't mean…." Kelly frowns and takes a step towards him. Now she's the one who can't seem to form words.

Nick wonders about the science behind heartbreak and what chemicals could possibly contribute to this utterly shitty feeling. He wonders if a kiss could fix this right now. If Kelly just kissed him then the stupid hormones and neurotransmitters would do their thing and fix everything, right? Too bad Nicky isn't willing to try. He doesn't let her close enough. He steps back every time she steps forward.

"I honestly thought it'd be different with you," Nicky says. "Whatever. Fine. It's over."

With that, Nicky shoves out of the room before he has the chance to see or hear her cry.

…

Kelly wonders if Nicky got this upset over whatever happened with Payson and Kaylie. Sure, you can think of Kaylie as a rebound after Payson rejected him, but the current National Champion also forced him to leave the Rock, which is pretty huge. That look on Nicky's face before he stormed out keeps flashing in Kelly's mind and her stomach clenches at the memory. She's pretty sure she comes in first in the Top 3 bitches who broke his heart and it's one gold medal Kelly doesn't want.

"What are you thinking about?"

Kelly blinks at the sound of Marty's voice. Then she realizes she's on beam.

"Why are you so distracted?" Marty asks.

Careful to keep her balance, Kelly tries to clear the haze from her head. She can feel Marty watching her and he has other, more direct questions he won't ask and she wouldn't answer anyways.

"I'm not."

"Focus, Kelly," he says. "Why do you keep looking around?"

"I'm not," she hisses through her teeth.

"If you're looking for Nicky, he's gone." Kelly breaks concentration completely, looking down on Marty, standing with his trusty clipboard. "He said something about feeling sick, didn't want to risk training and didn't want to give it to anyone else if it turns out to be serious."

"Good. If I got sick because of that loser I would not have been happy." Kelly stares out in front of her, trying to build up her concentration before going into a standing Arabian.

"I don't want to know, do I?" Marty asks.

Kelly blocks Marty out. She blocks everything out. She goes into the stunt with power and precision, twisting to just the right degree before landing in perfect position with her knees slightly bent. She usually feels empowered after pulling off a move, basic or breakthrough, but when she comes out of the moment, Kelly just remembers her problems all over again.

"Good," Marty says. "Full twisting double tuck."

Kelly takes a deep breath. She builds herself up and goes into it and everything feels how it should until her feet hit the mat and a wince slips from between her lips. Kelly rocks her weight and puts pressure on her ankle. She winces again, but less obviously this time. Marty rushes over. Her ankle has always given her problems. As if things couldn't get any worse.

"You're sitting out for the rest of the day. Go put some ice on it."

"Marty, I'm fine. It felt a little off, but it doesn't hurt. I can still train."

"No, your head's not in it; your heart's farther. Taking the rest of the day off won't kill you, Parker. We need you 100% in France. That's an order." As she starts to walk away, Marty is sure to add, "And if you could work out whatever's going on with Nicky that'd be great too."

…

The teaching hospital in Denver is Dr. Russo's kingdom. It's only fitting that it's Nicky's playground. He has so many memories of being little, wandering the halls, eating all his meals in the cafeteria, being entertained by interns and sometimes even spending nights in an on-call room if his dad had paperwork to catch up on. He essentially spent his childhood around adults in a clinical setting, which is why socializing with kids his own age never came easy.

Once he got older and started his training at the Rock, he'd carpool to get from home to the gym and back. Nicky got his driver's license as soon as he could so the only person he'd have to reply on is himself. The time he ended up in the parking lot with Kelly was the closest he's been to the hospital in years. After leaving the Denver Elite at lunch, Nicky goes to the hospital and crawls into bed in one of the empty on-call rooms. A number of people try to kick him out, but then they hear his last name and it's like a golden ticket in.

The door slowly opens, but Nicky keeps his eyes sealed tight. "I heard you were in here."

Nicky opens his eyes and finds an older gentleman in a white lab coat and scrubs, handsome in the same way Nicky is, but with more of a tan and facial hair. Nicky sits up as his father shuts the door and goes to sit at the foot of the bed. "Hey, dad."

"What brings you here, son? Everything's okay, I hope."

Nicky sighs and leans against the wall behind him. "I messed up again."

"What do you mean?"

Their shared reluctance to have this conversation shows in the way they won't look at each other. They don't talk about things like this. Honestly, they hardly ever talk at all. Nicky knows he isn't good with words or people, but his dad is another level entirely. Dr. Russo can be charming with patients and colleagues, but so emotionally closed off with his own son.

"How did you know you loved mom?"

Dr. Russo's face colors with shock and then pain. He runs his hand down the wrinkles in his face and stares off. "Nicholas, I don't have time to talk about this with you right now. I spent the last eight hours on a big spine case, multi level fusion, anterior and posterior. Tomorrow I've got a four finger replant, which will be _at least_ seven hours of micro…"

As Dr. Russo's words all melt together, Nicky tells himself he shouldn't be surprised. His dad never has time to talk about her ever.

"I'm only asking because there's this girl," Nicky says. Dr. Russo waits, curious. "And I thought…I thought I found something like what I saw with you and mom, but she…and now things are messed up and I don't…I don't know how to undo the hurt."

The silence swallows them whole. Nicky doesn't know how to ask, but he could really use a fucking parent right now. But then Dr. Russo's pager goes off and Nicky knows his dad is more relieved than anything.

"Shit. I need to take this," the surgeon says. "We can talk later. Here, let me give you some cash and you can go buy yourself a cup of coffee."

"No, I'm good, dad." Nicky swings his legs over the side of the bed, ready to leave. He doesn't know why he expected something. He doesn't know why he has expectations of anyone anymore. "I, uh, I think I'm going to Dallas."

"Dallas? For what?"

"There's a gym there." Nicky unconsciously rubs his hand down his face must like his dad had done a moment ago. "The credentials are epic and they want me, so. If it's okay with you…"

"You're eighteen now. It's your decision." Dr. Russo nods. "Sure you don't want that coffee?"

"No, I'm good. I'll just head home."

"Well, work out this move to Dallas and e-mail me the details." Nicky almost scoffs aloud. E-mail? Really? "Then I can help you sort out transportation and your living situation."

"Okay."

Dr. Russo gives Nicky a pat on the back before he takes off down the hall. Feeling worse than he did before, Nicky tears through the hospital and goes to his car. What a stupid fucking waste of time this turned out to be. He wants to hit something, but then he thinks of his hands he needs for gymnastics. So much of the time he feels like he's contained in this box, but he can't complain either because he put himself there in the first place and every time he tries to step out everything goes wrong.

His phone buzzes against the dashboard, where he left it, and Nicky looks over the missed calls and texts from Kelly. It starts vibrating in his palm and Nicky considers letting it go to voicemail, but ends up answering. He doesn't say anything nor does she. It isn't a matter of not wanting to be the first to speak. Neither of them knows what to say.

"Nick," she whispers. "What I said about your dad, that was really shitty. And I'm s—"

"Tell me not to go to Dallas," he interrupts her.

Kelly pauses and then asks, "What?"

"I want you to tell me to stay here, in Denver, and not move to Dallas."

"Why would you move to Dallas?"

"Because it sucks that I thought there was more to it, _us_, than you did," he says. "It sucks watching you jump through flaming hoops for your mom and it sucks that you said _it was fun while it lasted_ and the fact that you brought up my dad…and speaking of, it sucks that he wouldn't even tell me that running away is stupid. I wish I could come up with a better word, but _sucks_ just kind of covers all the bases right now."

Kelly doesn't respond right away and Nicky sighs heavily, rubbing at his eyes.

"Running away is stupid," she says firmly.

Nicky leans back and shuts his eyes. "Yeah, but it hurts way less than staying."

…

Though she wants to curl up into the fetal position when Nicky's move to Dallas is officially announced, Kelly is good at pretending she isn't bothered by the whole thing. Marty, on the other hand, needs to get a grip. Nicky breaks his contract and no one is surprised because once a gym-hopper, always. They haven't spoken since that phone call after she ended it. Nicky is clearly avoiding her and Sheila doesn't make it easy trying to talk to him at the gym. It gets to the point where Kelly takes control and goes to see him.

"What are you doing here?" Nicky asks, answering his front door.

Kelly shoves her hands into the pockets of her DE jacket and shifts her weight from side to side, feeling so small. "Did you really think I'd just let you leave?"

"I figured you ended it. What other loose ends do we have to tie up?" Nicky asks. Kelly represses the urge to punch him or cry, carefully noting the way he keeps the door mostly closed. "It's late, Kelly. Where does your mom think you are?"

"I really don't want to talk about my mom right now," she says. "Let me in."

It pisses her off that he actually has to take the time to weigh his options in his head before he pushes the door open the rest of the way. Kelly walks past him and into the house, not even having to ask if they're alone. Nicky locks the front door and goes into the living room, where the television is on ESPN.

"What time do you leave tomorrow?"

"Ten," he answers. "And I'll tell you the exact same thing I told Marty. My decision to go to Dallas doesn't have anything to do with you." Kelly sits beside him and gives him a look. "I'm serious. You were right. I got so caught up in whatever we were doing that I lost sight of why I even came to Denver Elite. Gymnastics is all I've ever had and that's where my head should be."

"Same," she says. "We have something in common other than both looking horrible in silver." Nicky chuckles, but won't look at her directly and she hates that. "Can we be real for a second, though? You can tell yourself and other people whatever, but just for me, man up and be honest. I'm the reason you're leaving?"

Nicky still won't look at her and Kelly would hit him, but then he gently takes her hand. "You aren't the reason I'm leaving. You made all the decisions I probably would have made in your position," he explains, "but…_how you make me feel_. I just can't. I don't know how to be around you without wanting to be with you. It's too hard, Parks. Maybe the distance…"

"Yeah, I'm sure you'll forget all about me…"

Nicky finally turns to her and with a faint smile. "Not possible. There's no way you can think you're dating Satan and just forget." Kelly rolls her eyes and nudges his shoulder with hers. "Even if it were possible, I don't want to forget and I don't want you to forget me either."

"I won't," she says. It's the closest to a promise he'll probably ever get out of her. "Who could forget you knocking over the _entire_ box of condoms and then trying to pick them all up? Such a dork." Seeing him blush, Kelly grins, squeezing his hand. "And about everything I said that day…"

"Already forgiven," he says. "You were trying to push me away. I don't like it, but I get it."

Kelly nods, drawing circles around the knuckle of his middle finger with the tip of her pointer. "Nick," she says softly. "Say goodbye to me."

He turns away, reluctant, but Kelly slowly brings his face back towards her and kisses him.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Nicky whispers. His arm is already around her and his lips are so close to hers that they brush with every word he says. Kelly's eyelids flutter open long enough to give him a last glimpse into her eyes that he loves. She nods and Nicky brings his lips back to hers, kissing her deeply.

When they take it upstairs and to his bed, everything is so different from their first time. Nicky is still just as careful and nervous and Kelly is just as eager and nervous, but all for different reasons this time around. It's better this time because they actually want it for the right reasons and that means something.

Afterwards, she doesn't lock herself in the bathroom, but curls up at his side and rests her head on his chest, wearing his pullover hoodie. Nicky wraps a lock of her dark hair around his finger and teases that her hair being up in her signature buns earlier definitely takes sex hair to an entirely new level. Kelly pinches his side and teases him back, saying she's surprised it lasted longer than five minutes this time. Nicky rambles on about brain activity during sex, proof he really did research, and Kelly kisses him to shut him up.

They penned this chapter of their lives together, costarred in it and now it's over. It feels like a nice ending to their story and it is, but life goes on. In life apart, the lonely little girl is still lonely and the scared little boy still runs.

…

"_Kel, it's me. Call me back." _

Kelly doesn't understand this. She gets into bed, ready to read until she falls asleep and takes a second to check her phone. There's a voicemail waiting and she goes to listen to it because that order works better for her—listening to Nicky's silence, which is all too real, and then jumping into a world of fiction, filling head with someone else's carefully crafted words. But when she goes to listen, she gets those six words. He's broken the pattern.

She hobbles out of bed (the stupid ankle wrap is a bitch) and quietly closes her door before crawling back beneath the sheets and calling him back. He answers on the second ring, like he's been waiting and he probably was.

"Kelly?"

She curls her knees into her chest and closes her eyes for a second. This is why they don't actually talk. Hearing his voice and knowing she can't reach out and touch him is pure torture.

"Why are you leaving me messages? Actual messages with actual words?"

Nicky sighs. "I just wanted to know if it was true. You're out of the Worlds team trial?"

Her eyes glaze over, but she'll be damned if she lets anything, but anger come through in her voice. "It's my stupid ankle," Kelly says. "We thought passing on the invitational in France would have been enough, but then I made it worse during practice and if I don't let it heal I could risk long-term damage."

"That…sucks."

"Worse things have happened," she says. It isn't even optimism. It's moving on. That's what she does. Kelly Parker doesn't hope things turn out okay, she's going to make them. "I hear Keeler is going to try to petition for a spot on the team and my mom has an in with this rehabilitation clinic in Houston and—"

"Kelly," he interrupts her, "I don't want to talk about gymnastics right now."

"_You_ don't want to talk about gymnastics?" she asks. "Are you feeling okay, Nick?"

"Homesick." He laughs softly. "I really like hearing your voice."

Breathing in deep and letting it go slow, Kelly hugs a pillow tight to her chest and really wishes she were hugging him instead. "I like hearing your voice too."

* * *

><p><span>AN: I was going to ask a really personal question here, but stopped myself. I'll save it for Twitter. What'd you think of the story? Oh, my tragic, awkward Nickelly. Also, for you who've read both my work and LCTD's and our collaborations, I'm curious, can you tell the difference between our writing? Well, besides the obvious, I swear way fucking more. :)

**P.S.** NEW CHAPTERS of #WeFaB = April 8th! Hope you're ready. :)

_Review_.

xoxo


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